Possession
by mysteriousmissg
Summary: It has been 2 years since Sherlock and Molly had shared a night together during the Fall, why are her dates still being victimised and scared away by a man who couldnt even stay for the morning after. Sherlolly.


Another failed date. This one had been interrupted by the meal being delivered with a note to Isaac. His face had contorted into shock, and sweating slightly and shaking he began rambling about the all to famous 'home emergency' that Molly Hooper had become accustomed to. It had been 2 years now, two years since she had taken the greatest risk of her career and taken the final battering to her feeble heart.

_His body dominated her, his angular hips bruising her delicate thighs, his head buried into the nape of her nick, his teeth savaging the skin there, leaving red and purple bruises in his wake clearly pronouncing her as his. His guttural snarl rippled through her body making her keen up to him, her body bending her hips smashed to his 'You are, and always will be mine Molly Hooper'. In the morning he was gone. _

Turning to the waitress who had bought her food, she half smiled 'I'm awfully sorry, he wont be coming back, I will still have mine though.' As the girl reached down to take the plate Molly snatched the note into her palm, waiting for the girl to go she began eating alone, on a romantic table for two overlooking the Thames. Sherlock had done as he always had, he had used her and broken her for the last time. The night they shared was the parting of ways for Molly, who had taken a few weeks moping as she always did before finally accepting her fate; her heart would always belong to the worlds only consulting detective. However in wake of that thought Molly decided that if that was the case, she would no longer be mousy little Molly Hooper. The next day the pathologist went to the hairdressers, her hair was cut to just past her face (she distinctively remember the stylist referring to it as a 'midi cut' whatever that meant) she had it highlighted and then proceeded to go and buy a new wardrobe. The 'awful cardigans' as _he_ had once referred to them were by no means gone, they just weren't decorated in little cats anymore, they clashed awfully but it suited her. Leggings had become Molly's new best friend and she finally decided to buy some make up and some more beautiful dresses similar to that of the Christmas Fiasco.

It wasn't a stunning transformation, Molly really didn't look any different, however tonight she had gone all out, her hair was curled to frame her face, the light makeup was more than overpowered by the tight black dress molly wore, her hips shapely and curvy before leading onto a pair of legs that had made Isaacs eyes light up. Frowning whilst chewing on her pasta, Molly remembered where she was and looked at the note, unfolding it and a shiver went down her spine, followed by all consuming anger. Dropping the note and walking away, it fluttered to the ground before landing on the uneaten food. _Mine._

She was no longer his, she hadn't been since that bloody stupid night. She no longer stuttered in front of men, she was hardened by years of cold remarks, insults and being used like a chew toy. She knew where he would be, he would be where he met her for his last favour. Her heels echoed against Londons concrete floor, her coat tails flapping around her calfs due to the blistering winter winds. Molly hopped into the taxi and through gritted teeth, Anger raging through her veins said 'St. Barts Please.' to the nervous looking driver.

_She had sobbed the moment her eyes had opened, he had gone, left nothing but a note on her kitchen side. She read it and felt everything crumble, tears pouring from her puffy eyes even though she was sure she couldn't cry anymore. Molly ripped the stupid bloody note in half and slid to the floor, her back against her corner unit. 'It was a mistake. -SH'. Molly felt foolish, how had she got to this place in her life? How had she let one insignificant, rude, childis take her heart and fucking destroy it? Was she a masochist? Despite all of that, she could still feel the little glimmer of hope in her heart whisper 'he may come back'. Head overruling heart Molly sat back, her head tipping back and whispered into the silence of her flat 'he wont come back for someone like me'. _

She had arrived safely, no being kidnapped by his ridiculous fucking brother this time, no being taken somewhere completely different than where she wanted to go because the driver had been paid to stop her from getting to her date. No more having dates not turn up or just simply say that they weren't interested or better yet 'gay'. Paying and leaving the taxi, Molly walked into St Bart's, her ID thankfully in her bag and walked into the all to familiar morgue. She had been transferred after the fall to 'shield' her from the painful past, or so thats what Mike Stamford has said when he moved her. There was no sign of anyone being in there, but her skin tingled and she felt all the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and could feel the atmosphere around her cackle. He was there, visable or not and she would finally tell him...

'You can hide all you want Sherlock but I Know you are in here.' She paused 'It feels the exact same as it did when you came to me that night, I feel like you are about to ask me for a favour. I wont do it. ' she paused again waiting for anything, an interruption most likely. 'You had no right to scare him away like that, Issac had done nothing wrong that be a gentleman. In the same way you had no right to pay off that taxi driver, or tie up Henry to a tree that one time to prevent him from meeting me. The same with Liam, Ryan and Harry. You had no right! You lost that right the night you left!'

Her voice had increased in pace, like a river flowing with nothing to stop it

'You told me how beautiful I was, how kind, considerate and _understanding_ i was, It was cruel and unfair to claim someone as yours, take what you want and leave them with the consequences Sherlock. Even for you it was inhuman.' her voice was tinged with bitterness and anger, she was losing her temper, but for once in her controlled life, Molly felt good about it, he deserved to know every little thing he had done to her.

' Every insult you've ever thrown at me must have been another part of your cherade and act because every insignificant thing about me didnt stop you from kissing me, touching me and tasting me! It didnt stop you from falling into the _oh so disgusting_ human level of wanting to fuck me, of wanting to _mark_ me and tell me that no matter what the circumstances _i am yours'_

Her chest shuddered as she tried to gasp back her breath, there was a pause of silence before she finally _finally_ heard his soft baritone rumble from the darkness in front of her.

'I do not share'  
Molly stared as he stepped into the soft light of the morgue and felt her heart throb painfully, he was beautiful, all cheekbones, sharp angles and oozing a euphoric god like presence. She could tell by his darting eyes that he was analysing every single bit of her, what had changed, why it had happened and what the consequences were. Molly boldly stared at him, straight in the eye, her brown eyes smouldering at him. Taking a deep breath Molly took a step forward and suddenly with the last of her courage whispered into the quiet:

'Screw You Sherlock Holmes'

He looked taken aback, quirking an eyebrow his mouth slightly open and he stared in awe of the woman Molly Hooper had become. "Molly-' he began only to be cut short. "No Sherlock, You can keep quiet, did you really think that after two years you could just storming back into my life leaving hell behind you just to have round two? What is it? No other woman quite as desperate and hopelessly in love with you to scratch your itch?' Her words were cutting and she watched him flinch with no compassion. 'It hurts doesn't it? It _burns_ to miss someone, to know that no matter how hard you try' she leant forward boldly so in her heels she was only a few inches shorter and whispered in his ear her voice dark and breathy 'they will never love you like you want them to.'

Molly had all of 5 seconds to move back before a hand grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her mouth to his, the kiss was hateful, passionate and months of tension drained into it. She bit his lower lip just enough to make him moan before soothing the welt she left behind with her tongue. In retaliation he pulled her closer, crushing her small frame to his broader one. In a flurry of kisses and sighing, Molly grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked him back, holding on tightly.

'Why?' she asked, her lips swollen and bruised from the onslaught of his kisses, 'You will always be mine' he answered breathlessly before fighting her grip and pulling her face back to his, moving their bodies backwards to the slab in the morgue lifting Molly almost effortlessly so that she could sit and he could park himself between her legs once more, his trousers were strained and she could feel the dampness in her knickers. He moved his mouth to her neck, nibbling on certain sensitive parts he hand memorised in his mind palace. Pulling away between kisses, Sherlock murmured into her neck 'I saw you on your first date after my departure' he growled slightly remembering the night.

_He had paid the kid to video Molly walking with this man, this idiot who QUITE CLEARLY only wanted sex, his stance, the way his arm was draped across her shoulder and his 'jack Russell' complex surely were obvious? He just wanted to get off and that was it, Molly looked beautiful, a cream dress, a little short at the back and was a little too large for her smaller bust however she looked beautiful, her hair was tamed and glistening under the street lamps. Was she flirting back? Why would she, he had told her... she was his, Nobody got what was his, He'd make sure of it. _

Molly moaned slightly as his lips sucked on a sensitive part of her neck and let him continue 'You looked beautiful, it took all of my self restraint not to run over, grab that eejit by his scrawny head and break him in two for even touching you' He paused and stared her in the eye 'Im back for good now Molly, Im not leaving your side' Molly stopped staring widely at him. Was he lying? Was it just another way to get what he wanted. 'I don't believe you' she said angrily before he growled again and pushed the skirt of her dress up, his long fingers grabbing her underwear and pulling them down her legs before pocketing them smoothly. 'What will it take Molly?' He asked in annoyance 'What will it take for me to prove to you that i don't want to be anywhere else but here?' as he spoke he slid two fingers into her, his trousers throbbing as she mewed underneath him, her hips writhing, her finger pinching into his shoulders as she clenched around him. Breathlessly she said; 'Sherlock- please' her hips thrusting against his hand which was torturing her with slow, long strokes, her wetness letting him glide in and out of her. Looking at his Molly beneath him, he quickly undid his fly with his other hand, glad at the lack of underwear he'd neglected and let himself free, his cock brushing her thigh as they both grunted softly. Bending over her lightly Sherlock looked her in the eye and murmured 'be Mine Molly, Please' his eyes pleading and holding a sincerity Molly had never seen before, reaching for him she stroked him once, twice and weakly smiled 'One more Chance Sherlock' and used her legs to drag him closer to her, her legs wrapped around his slim waist.

Smiling, Sherlock took his hand away from her, slapped her hand away and lined himself with her leaning forward by and inch before whispering 'Mine' and propelling his hips forward, making them both moan. Molly's nails bit into his shoulder, scrabbling down his back as she cried out in pleasure from the movement of his hips, never stopping or breaking the pace and making her burn from the inside. She felt euphoric and her eyes closed as she moaned 'Im Yours Sherlock' he growled and bit her neck thrusting hard, the tale legs squeaking in the Morgue "Again' he grunted in her eyes, his curls dampening on his forehead as he continued. Molly felt the wave flow through her body, every inch of her signing his name, burning bright as she climaxed around his, clenching tightly around him with a cry of 'Yours' mingled with his groan of 'Mine' as they climaxed, pumping softly Sherlock moaned into her neck, his lips softly kissing her.

All was quiet in the morgue apart from the heavy breathing and whimpers, Sherlock has found his home once more, and Molly felt like she was finally worth something, she was Sherlock's and she intended on staying that way for as long as possible.


End file.
